Bodok stood up taller, his shoulders pulled back, his chest out, a determined look in his eyes. “I wish to fight in the tournament. To earn my freedom.”
The overseer laughed, and it actually sounded genuine. “He’s got passion, I’ll give him that. Okay, go fight. The crowd always loves a bleeder, and I’m sure you won’t disappoint them. Take him to the preparation camp.”
Azros watched as his new friend was led away, a look of disbelieving sadness in his eyes. He had warned the newcomer, steered him as best he could. It had been nice having a new friend in camp after so long. But that looked like it was coming to an end. Bodok’s days were numbered.
The guards led the blue man from the main camp, directing him to a walled-in compound a little ways away, past the animal pens. It was a part of the city that he had never been in before. With a wave, the guards directed him past the lone sentry and into the gates.
Once inside, they marched him to what seemed to be a housing barracks of some sort. There he saw mostly empty beds, but a few had signs of occupants. A small open-air training area was attached, surrounded by an even higher wall.
This was where he was supposed to prepare for his first fight.
“Next large tournament is in two weeks,” the guard said. “You’ll probably be in the interim matches beforehand.”
“Interim?”
“Yeah. Gotta keep the public amused, after all,” the man replied. “But that works to your advantage. Those aren’t usually to the death. Who knows? You might get lucky and walk away only a little maimed.”
The other guard shook his head. “Nah, Ignal is scheduled for the next one. Seems like a good pairing for this one.”
The guard almost looked apologetic when he turned back to Bodok. “Well, that sucks for you,” he said. “Too bad you’re so soft. Big as you are, you might have even stood a chance.”
The guards walked away and locked the gate behind them, leaving him there to ponder his decision. His fate.
He was going to have to fight. It was something he wanted absolutely no part of but they’d left him no alternative. It was that or never see Maureen again.
As the bitter cold reality of the situation set in, Bodok couldn’t help but wonder what he’d just done.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
However displeased Mistress Tormik was with Maureen, a few vital aspects of her life under Mondarian laws remained constant. She was working every day with a rest day falling only on the tenth. The concept of a seven-day week was something the Mondarians had never considered.
They were alien, after all, and their timekeeping and calendars reflected that. When it came to dividing up days—some of which were quite long, while others short, depending on the solar cycle of the world they were on—ten had been selected as a nice even number with which to work.
As a result, on the tenth day laborers were allowed a day to themselves to recover for the next cycle. Of course, indentured servants were not allowed to just randomly go where they pleased. They were still limited in their freedom.
In Maureen’s case, she had been even more restricted than most. Mistress Tormik made it quite clear that aside from the few very select locations she had already been allowed to frequent in her labors, she was not to wander. To do so would be disobedience that would result in increasing her indenture even more.
The other part of Maureen’s existence that followed the Mondarian guidelines was the pittance of money she earned as pocket change to spend on her day off. While an indentured servant was paying off their debt with their labors, the Mondarian high council recognized that eventually a servant would exit into free life, and when they did they would need to have a means of support.
It wasn’t a lot by any stretch, but with their living expenses covered as members of a household, a frugal servant could put away enough currency to allow them some degree of security when they finished their term.
Angry as the mistress of the house was with Maureen, she would not dare violate Mondarian law over it. Maureen was paid promptly, just like the rest of the staff.
She found the payment laughable but accepted it with gracious thanks. She was technically not a slave, but with what she was earning she might as well be. It was the equivalent of paying someone a grande latte and a scone for their full day’s work, but she had to admit that, little as it was, it was better than nothing. And Vaxxa had made it quite clear that if she was smart with her finances it could add up.
The little money she earned was no substitute for what she was truly wanting, however. There was something special brewing between her and Bodok, and she very much wanted to find him again. To touch him. To feel that insane connection once more.
But after their forced separation she had gone a full week without so much as a trace of him anywhere in the city. Not even a hint of that tugging of her Infala as she walked the streets and marketplaces. For all she could tell, he was gone.
Making things worse was her new work schedule. Where she had been sent out frequently in the past, Maureen’s new duties were more homebound, and she found herself stepping out into the city less and less.
“He upset the mistress,” Vaxxa said one evening as they worked in the food preparation area cleaning and storing supplies acquired at the marketplace. “And you upset her too. You are fortunate you were not punished more than you were.”
“We didn’t do anything,” Maureen protested.
“You walked away from the mistress,” Marga chimed in. “No one walks away from the mistress.”
“I didn’t go far. And I didn’t do anything wrong. I just felt this thing—I don’t know, it was like a pull. He was there and I had to go to him.”
